like satin and lace
by Mia-Zeklos
Summary: "Jon's first impression upon entering the studio was that, despite all of the careful planning he'd done, he'd arrived late."


**Notes: This was written for day one of the Jonerys Appreciation Week over on tumblr, with the prompts for today being _Fashion / Dragons / Seasons_. I tried to get them all at once as usual, hence the modern AU. The rest of the week will probably stick much closer to the canon - or at least canon divergences of it. Aside from this, I've written for this ship only once and am really excited about trying my hand at it again as I really really love it, so hopefully the results are enjoyable! Feedback is always welcome. :)**

 **Title taken from The Last Shadow Puppets's _In the Heat of the Morning_ , which also serves as a soundtrack.**

 **ETA: Cersei gets to have the part of this that she does (it's a throwaway line, but it's important) because I hold the firm belief that had both she and Dany grown up in a significantly healthier world than the one their families and Westeros as a whole offer, they would have definitely found common ground over quite a few things.**

* * *

Jon's first impression upon entering the studio was that, despite all of the careful planning he'd done, he'd arrived late.

The sight in front of him wasn't one he was unfamiliar with. The cameras weren't on yet, save for the one shooting the proceedings, but all the lights – and the crew's attention – were fixed on the chair and the vanity table in the middle of the room. The focus of their work had her back to him, but her long hair was draped over the back of her chair like a curtain, unmistakable even as the make-up artists kept picking at it.

"Jon?" They'd known each other for long enough now that he was almost sure that she could recognise the pattern of his boots against the marble floor, but it was still somewhat of a surprise when she turned around despite the several warnings she'd just received against it. Jon couldn't bring himself to feel too sympathetic for their annoyance, but then again, most of the minor details of the world around him tended to fade to the background when Daenerys smiled at him. They'd known each other for years now and that was one of the things that had never changed; the way her face lit up when she saw him.

"I thought I might come in earlier," Jon nodded as he approached the table, carefully wrapping his arms around her in an embrace that wouldn't disrupt the preparation process too much. He wouldn't even think of daring to kiss her right now, but the force of habit was there all the same. They'd only seen each other a few hours ago back in the flat, but she looked so different now; like a statue carved out of ice. It made sense – despite the still decent weather outside, the preparation for the autumn/winter catalogue had started a long time ago. This shoot was supposed to be the jewel in this collection's crown. "Not early _enough_ , apparently."

"We just thought we'd use all the time we can get." Daenerys gestured towards her dress once Jon had stepped back and although she was still smiling, he could see the hint of expectation in her eyes. "It took half an hour to put this on."

Going by protocol, Jon should have seen it months ago. He'd always preferred knowing what he was going to work with, but Daenerys had been adamant about taking him by surprise this time around. He hadn't protested. They'd been working together ever since she'd arrived in the high-end fashion house just a few months after he'd scored the Head Photographer position there and while they'd had a shaky beginning with neither of them willing to budge on some of their preferences, it had all soon developed into something much different. Jon had had more photo shoots than he cared to count in the time since then, but there weren't many people he trusted as much as he did their house's top model.

The dress was a masterpiece; he had to admit that much. The lower half had a long, flowing skirt made up of far too many layers of the same thin, flimsy material that shifted with every move she made and sparkled under the lights above them. It swiftly merged with the heavily decorated corset that ended in small spikes just above the cleavage. The lacing on the back was similarly chaotic once he took a look at it – like flames woven out of white satin. It was only then that he saw the pattern of all the silvery-light images sewn into the dress and once he did, Jon's eyes widened.

" _Dragons_?"

"Dragons," Daenerys confirmed with the kind of glint in her eye that usually produced her best ideas. Although she wasn't the driving force behind the design itself, she rarely agreed to model something she wasn't pleased with and it was no surprise that this had caught her attention. It fit her like a second skin. "It's a gown for winter brides; it needed a little more fire."

"Cersei's words?" Their designer was always full of ideas and it wasn't Jon's place to question them, but the thought of the two of them debating on what a winter bride should look like made something in his soul flutter in a way that was entirely expected by now.

" _Yes,_ but I agree this time. Everything needs a little more fire."

Today's shoot, Jon suspected, would be one to remember.

 **o.O.o**

As the day stretched on, Jon couldn't help but let his mind wander on occasion. It wasn't that the assignment wasn't engaging – it was – but that he just had so many things to focus on. There was the dress to think of, as well as the elaborate hairdo and the make-up that complemented it and every picture he took managed to shine in its own way, the snowy forest they'd used as a background only making Daenerys stand out even more. She was all white and silver, an almost ethereal vision under the spotlight, the only splash of colour being the pale blue roses intertwined in her hair. Her hands kept straying to them, as if she still couldn't believe they existed to begin with. It was all so very _delicate_ and it fit just as well as the sharp lines of her dress, the contrast somehow encompassing her in every way possible.

The flowers had been his idea – the only input he'd allowed himself this time around, really – and it had felt like a good one when he'd given it, but now Jon rather wished he _hadn't_. It forced another one of those odd little twists out of his heart, the thought that what was essentially his family's trademark fit her so well, and while he knew that she'd be delighted by the observation had he made it – she had no family to speak of and had quickly took a liking to his – it still felt too early, especially considering what he had planned.

She would appreciate the comment more then than she would now, he knew. They'd always found common ground where it mattered; now wouldn't be the exception.

"Everything all right?" The bemused smile she threw him over her shoulder was enough to make Jon snap out of his contemplation as he took the next few shots. He adjusted the camera a little in an attempt to get every possible angle of the back of the dress and nodded hastily.

"Yes." The fact that she'd realised that he had something on his mind even with her back to him was enough to prove his point. "Yes, of course."

"Jon." She turned around on her heel and carefully readjusted the dress just enough to be able to come closer. It helped that she was more than used to it, but Jon still met her halfway. "What is it?"

"It's nothing," he assured her again, finally leaning in for a quick, barely-there kiss. They were just about done anyway and she must have realised the same thing because she reached up, her caress when she cupped his cheek only sharpened by the rings she was covered in. "Nothing _bad_ ," he amended when she narrowed her eyes in obvious disbelief. "I'll tell you later."

It wouldn't be enough to actually convince her, but she allowed it for now. "Okay." She lingered for a moment and then pulled away, smoothing down her dress as if to collect herself. "I'm going to go get dressed."

"Right." Jon turned back to his equipment, preparing to put everything back in its place before they'd head home for the night. He wasn't in a hurry – it would be quite a while before Daenerys emerged again, given how long the preparations had taken. He didn't mind too much. It would give him all the time he needed to get ready.

By the time he wandered out into the entrance hall to wait for her, it had started raining. Jon smiled to himself – autumn had finally arrived, it seemed, and although the temperature outside had dropped considerably, he could still feel the small box in his pocket as if it was burning a hole through the fabric. She'd be here any minute now.


End file.
